The Alliance of the Seven Alleyways
by Crithach
Summary: Harry finds a secret community lost to the wizarding kind for several hundred years and a prophecy older than the Britain is uncovered. The fight against the Dark Lord just got serious. ..Or did it? Dark!Harry HPLV SLASH Necromancy
1. Prologue

A/N: The prologue is written in a bit of an experimental manner. It consists of short snippets from different people's P.O.V's, except the first, which is obviously an excerpt from a book. I believe that it's not at all difficult to connect them in your minds after reading, since the timeline is linear, but it might seem a bit weird at first. Also, the book excerpt might be a bit heavy an opener, but it's kinda important so please don't ditch me just because it starts boring… ^^'

Also, THE RAINBOW WARNING! THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS, CRUDE LANGUAGE, TORTURE AND OTHERWISE EMOTIONAL SHIT. Dumbledore is a meanie, Harry goes dark grey, and Voldemort goes through a change of perspective. If you don't like that, don't read. And I know that no one actually reads author's notes, but what the heck, I warned you.

Disclaimer:Harry Potter & co. belong to J. and her publishers. I do not receive any financial or otherwise profit or payment for writing this story.

PROLOGUE

An excerpt from the book 'The Great Magicks' by Dahlien Terra, published by The Seven Alleyways Print in 1849 b.c.e., :

_"THE SHADOW MAGICKS: INTRODUCTION_

_The shadow magicks are divided into three branches: black magick (otherwise called dark magick or the dark arts), mage magick and necromancy. They work with the three levels of our reality and their magick; the Otherworld, The Dark Lands and the Underworld._

_5.1.1 The planes_

_The Otherworld is the plane in which you and me exist. It was named by one of the very first Necromancers who only stayed on our plane for short periods of time. (more on pg. 367, chapter 6)_

_The Dark Lands are the plane in between The Otherworld and The Underworld. It is the plane which shadow mages use as a means for transportation. It is said, that time and distances are not laws on this plane, and can be modified by a skilled shadow mage to quite great lengths. (more on pg. 453, chapter 7)_

_The Underworld is not, despite it's name situated in any way below this world. It is the afterlife, but also a place for other beings and spirits. It is divided into six levels which will be further explained in chapter 8 (page 621). The ruler of The Underworld is said to be The Necromancer._

_5.1.2 The Magicks_

_In theory, anyone born with magickal talent is capable of using black magick, but the use has been notified to be easier to those who have a dark affinity inherited through a bloodline. Even a need to use this branch of magick has been recorded in some families, to keep their magickal skills steady. Black magick draws it's power from the wild magick of our honored Mother Earth, not the tame, ambient magick in the atmosphere or the wizard's core like light spells do. _

_Black magick is often portrayed as the 'opposite' of the light magicks because of it's most common uses and a 'dark' and 'wild', intense feeling experienced while it is being used. This polarization is however untrue, for black magick is only a branch of the shadow magicks and light magicks are a whole branch in as themselves. Also, black magick can very well be used in a way commonly viewed as 'light'. Even some healing spells are categorized as black (see attachment 3; 'List of black magick considered light/grey' and attachment 6; 'List of Ministry approved black magick'). The notion of black magick being 'evil' is entirely ridiculous. (See more debate on this matter on pg. 1732, chapter 16.)_

_The users of mage magick are called shadow mages, and the ability is somewhat restricted to those of higher level of power. The skills every mage possess vary, but there are some common themes. The shadows, The Otherworld and The Dark Lands are every shadow mage's levels of existence, none of them more important than the other. Shadow mages are known to guard their secrets most ferociously and before the training for a shadow mage can begin a test of great importance must be cleared and a vow vowed. The shadow mages have a book of rules in which they mark their most important laws. It has been said not knowing every law by heart can prove fatal for a user of mage magick. No information about what these laws include has been leaked outside their assigned circles, ad as such it is believed that any such leakage would garner a very hash punishment._

_Necromancy deals with the Underworld and is an inherited talent. It is said, that the most powerful necromancer of a time is the ruler of the Underworld. Not very much is known of this branch of the shadow magicks, for a necromancer to visit the Otherworld is very rare, even if they most commonly die and are born on our plane-"_

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A pale hand twisted the once-white bedsheets wrapped around a lithe form, choking and suppressing. An anxious gasp was heard as a few drops of sweat travelled down to the dark eyebrows featuring a lighting bolt -shaped scar, and now also a pained frown followed by a whimper. The-Boy-Who-Lived was having a nightmare.

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Maddrow crossed the small audience hall as quietly as he could, avoiding the light and keeping to the shadows. Cold sweat ran down his back as he listened to the screams coming from the room ahead. If he was captured he would be killed, most probably tortured and mauled. Once again he questioned his need to be here, in the headquarters of the most evil wizard in decades, desperately searching for an excuse to leave and never come back again. He found nothing. His fear was pulling him forward, just as it was pushing him away, but the need to see his brother alive and as well as possible was winning.

His brother knew that the Alleys were important. He knew that and should by default want to protect them as long as he could. So why was Madbran having difficulties with the Alliance? Didn't his brother know how important it was to keep the secret until the human-child appeared? In his heart Maddrow knew that Madbran did know this, and this trust was the reason he was there, trying to save his brother. He just hoped he was right, and Madbran in fact needed saving. For the other option was…just too horrible to even think of.

The screams and crazed laughter had gotten louder now. Maddrow stopped in front of the thin pillar of light coming from the ajar door and took a deep breath. He felt sick. These wizards were monsters, taking pleasure in the pain of others and reveling in the blood of the innocent.

His brother was innocent. Or he should have been. Maddrow opened the door quietly.

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_Harry pointed his wand at one of the worthless muggles and laughed with a high pitched voice. The muggle screamed and cried as she felt the skin on her arms turn upside-down. Harry had previously cast a charm on her that prevented her from going numb and made her feel every cruel action for hours. She would scream until her vocal chords were shredded to pieces and would continue even after that. The fact that these weaklings would inflict so much damage on themselves when provoked just a little would never cease to amuse Harry. And even when they didn't scream they bit their lips to pieces or shredded their bodies with their nails. _

_Harry was well aware that he had a freeloader in his mind and just this once didn't care. He should show the boy some of the treatment he would get when he'd be captured._

"_You see that, Harry-boy? That's what's going to happen to you," Harry said, "if you don't join me."_

"_Go fuck yourself," Harry spit out, and suddenly knew himself._

_The door opened, but neither noticed._

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There were eight deatheaters. There were..no, there _had been_ thirteen muggles. Now five of them were corpses and the rest becoming ones too quickly. And then there was his brother. Oh, his beautiful baby-brother. Not so beautiful anymore. Despite his disgust and sadness Maddrow felt a slight bout of relief; his brother had not betrayed them, his brother was loyal!

Maddrow took a deep breath to gather his strength, took the form of his shade-crow and glided in the shadows to the darkest corner behind the deatheater that was torturing his brother. From the thin waistline and curvy shapes Maddrow deduced that this one was a woman.

'That is good. It might be more easy to knock her down,' Maddrow thought in a desperate try to think positively. But he also knew that there was a very good change that this woman laughing in a crazed manner before him was Bellatrix Lestrange, and that could never be good. He also knew that the Dark Lord's inner circle was numbered eight. And that all three of the Lestranges were part of it. But he preferred not to think about the fact that not only was he going against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but also his high-generals. He was already sweating a lot more than was brave.

Time was now the key; he had to do this quick. So Maddrow took a deep breath, and without wondering for too long if this was at all intelligent and not the most stupidest thing he had ever done, he again took the form of his shade-crow and leapt at the female deatheater, pulling the shadows he had been hiding in with him. When Maddrow pushed his black, etherial wings down on her shoulders and over her head, she let out a startled cry swishing her hands about trying to get the offending black material off. Maddrow made sure she was properly entangled before letting go his hold of the shadows.

_The fifth rule of the shadow mages: 'All shadow-material always wants to, and will, get out of light'. _

And out of the light it went, back to the dark corner, the Death Eater within it. A last sound of shocked anguish escaped her lips as by the wall she was consumed by the black goo, vanishing entirely. Now she was in the Dark Lands, wandering the plains endlessly, before becoming only a wisp of a shadow herself. Continuing his dive quickly, Maddrow leapt at his brother, colliding straight with his chest and letting the shadows swallow them both. The Dark Lands opened before them. The first thing he saw was the tall, silvery tower of Tir Nan Oge, beholding the spiraling Silver Cloud, where it was rumored the Necromancer's magic was kept until He would return. Across the grassy soil without the illumination of either the sun or the moon Maddrow could see lighter paths.

_The second rule of the shadow mages: 'Never stray from the paths'. _

Holding his brother close to his chest, Maddrow started walking, weaving his magick of time and place.

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_A/N: So, what do you think? Not much of Harry here, but he'll very much be the main character, and the whole next chapter will be about him._

_PLEASE, if you got to this point, REVIEW. Even one word would be enough! And if you didn't like it, tell me why. I'm a new author so I'd like to know in which things I have to do better_


	2. Chapter 1: The Bracelet of Balor

A/N: Everything with Severus's unbreakable vow to Narcissa, and Scrimgeour's appointment as the minister of magic goes in this fic the way it did in the HBP, but I didn't feel like writing out the book, so I left it out. It will be apparent in the story later on. Dumbledore won't take Harry to the Burrow at the start of the summer, since he is a bit more ruthless and manipulating than in the real Potter-series. And Tonks won't have much problems with feeling guilty, just 'cause I want to write Tonks a bit more like Tonks.

After a bit of pondering, I decided I'll answer to the reviews I get right here, if I don't want to say something private. Thanks to all who bothered! You're awesome!

Rikali: Thank you! Here's some more. :D

KrossatGlas: Hope I have given you some more material to think about, even though I feel like the pace is yet quite slow. And I totally agree with you about the 'not enough semi-original dark fics out there' -thing! That's exactly the reason I started writing this: I was bored with all that I could find. Hopefully I won't tumble down to the most used cliches. Thank you for the review!

rebekahalana: I didn't think that confusing would be good, but I suppose it is then! :D Thank you!

Gemini Peverell: About your username…I can say that you'll see Peverell mentioned in this fic too. ;D

CHAPTER ONE: THE BRACELET OF BALOR

Already, when Privet Drive was illuminated by the morning sun Harry Potter had been awake for hours. He had woken up screaming with a horrible pain in his scar and gruesome images playing their twisted drama behind his eyelids. This time it hadn't been so bad. Someone had gotten away. He had no idea how it had happened; one minute he was Voldemort torturing a muggle woman and the next he saw a black, ethereal figure of a large bird launch from the shadows, making Bellatrix disappear and then disappearing itself, taking a tortured, brown-haired man of some twenty-five years with him. Voldemort had been livid, and it wasn't a wonder. Someone had gotten in and out of his stronghold without anyone being able to do anything about it.

'What the bloody hell was that?' Harry thought and swept his hands across his face, 'It was like the shadows just..twisted out of form and swallowed both Bellatrix ('The bitch', Harry ground his teeth) and that man.' That was no magic Harry recognized.

Harry sighed and looked at the clock on his bedside table. 6:53, it read, and in seven minutes it would be time for Harry to get up anyways. He turned off the alarm, and shrugged off the blanket covering his body. It was time to try his best to forget about what ever the fuck happened in his vision and make breakfast for the whales and the horse.

Harry trudged down the stairs with his hair sticking up even worse than normal and eyes bleary, the smell of fresh coffee in the air making his mouth water. Petunia was already sitting in front of the kitchen table reading the Surrey Advertiser of the day and absently sipping coffee from a white porcelain coffeecup. When Harry entered the kitchen she glanced at him and scrunched up her nose at his disheveled appearance. Either way she didn't say anything and Harry was glad. He didn't think that he could've take much of their shit today, especially this early in the morning. He turned on the stove and took out a carton off eggs and four packets of bacon.

At the end of the last school-year Sirius had died. Sirius had died, and Harry had been so angry. He had tried avoiding the whole subject, but the death of his god-father had seemed like the only thing anyone had wanted to talk about. Finally he had caved under the pressure and snapped at Remus when he visited Harry to see if he was okay. It only made him feel guiltier, but when he apologized, Remus just listened and comforted while Harry talked and screamed and cried. It had helped some, and after a while he had realized that he wasn't the only one with the right to be sad. He wasn't even the most justified one, since he hadn't really even known Sirius. He hadn't known that Sirius liked having peanut butter jelly sandwiches for breakfast, or that he had been very close to his brother before Regulus joined the Deatheaters, or that he and Remus had been well on their way into a loving relationship. Not before Remus told him. Those, and many things more Harry hadn't known about. The realization had shocked him into thinking about what exactly he was sad about, and he came to the slightly bitter conclusion that he only missed Sirius for what he could've been; not for what he was. This wasn't a prequel for any kind of miraculous acceptance of Sirius' death, or make the guilt Harry felt for it vanish, but it did lessen his self-righteous pity and anger, and consequently, made the screaming-fits less frequent. And now, two months into the summer, Harry finally felt a bit more at peace.

Three days ago Harry had gotten a letter from Dumbledore. It had said that they were going to go shopping for his school stuff today; Harry and Harry's five guards. He wondered sometimes, if all this protection was really for his sake, or the headmaster's. Two weeks into the summer Dumbledore had visited him and told him about Sirius' will, and the fact that he now owned the Grimmauld place. He had also told him not to leave the immediate vicinity of the number four Private Drive. Meaning, that he couldn't leave the house. For the whole summer. He had already been jailed in the house he loathed with the three people he hated almost as much as Deatheaters for _two whole months_. Harry didn't know what to think. No, scratch that, he knew exactly how he felt about this.

It pissed him off.

Dumbledore hadn't even asked him whether he wanted to stay somewhere else. He was once again making the same mistakes he did the previous summer. At least he had told him about Sirius' will, but Harry suspected it had more to do with the fact that he needed to know whether Grimmauld Place was still safe for the Order than with the fact that he thought Harry had the right to know. But it wasn't something Harry could know for sure, so he tried to be understanding.

When Harry had asked if he could stay at the Burrow, Dumbledore had looked at him with sad eyes and said: "I'm sorry Harry, but you must understand. I'm sure you don't want to put any more people than need to be in any more danger than they must." Harry had flushed in shame, but later he had felt angry. That sentence had been like a stab at his heart, like an accusing finger who pointed at him: "You. You are the reason Sirius is dead and your friends got hurt. You alone." Dumbledore had used his guilt and "hero-complex" expertly against him.

Preceding last year this manipulation might have gone unnoticed, but after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries Harry had promised himself to look at everything more sharply. It had gotten through to him in the most terrible manner, that he couldn't trust any superficial observations he made of the world. So why should he trust anyone else's either? In this matter with Voldemort he was alone and as angry as he was at Dumbledore, he knew that the headmaster was also right: Harry didn't want to put any more people in danger. He was quite sure that that was not exactly what Dumbledore had meant, but that was how Harry took it. "I am alone," Harry had thought, and shivered in the sudden coldness that had swept over him.

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The doorbell rang and immediately Harry heard uncle Vernon shout at him from the living room.

"BOY, go get the door, and don't you DARE let those freak-friends of yours in to stain the carpets! They'll stay outside, you listening to me?" he bellowed.

Harry got up from the chair he was sitting in the kitchen reading the newspaper Petunia had abandoned and walked to the door, opening it. The open door revealed four people standing on the steps.

"Hello Remus, Tonks, Moody," Harry smiled faintly, ignoring the hook-nosed potions professor who was scowling at him from behind the young woman's back, "How do you do? I'm afraid I'm not allowed to let you in, but I'll just go get my jacket and we can go."

He turned away from the door without waiting for an answer and fetched his jacket, backbag and wand from upstairs. There was nothing else he needed, since his Gringotts key was still in Dumbledore's tender, loving care. Harry reminded himself to demand it from whichever of his guards had it now, and keep it. It was legally his to keep wasn't it not, and he had the feeling he would be needing it in the near future.

When he came down Tonks grinned at him somewhat weakly and took his arm.

"You ready Harry?" and without waiting for a confirmation apparated them into an empty side-street just outside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry gagged and pulled his arm out of Nymphadora's hold while leaning on his knees feeling sick.

"Tonks! You could've waited a second! You know I hate all magical transportation.. Well, besides brooms that is," Harry lifted his head and glared at the surprisingly normal-looking girl. Tonks just grinned a bit wider and hit his head playfully.

"Oh, you poor baby! You can face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but can't handle a bit of apparition," the witch snickered.

"She gave you a fair amount of time to react Potter. Constant vigilance!" Moody grunted behind them, where his other guards had just appeared.

"And Potter is whining pitifully again. Why, I wonder, do I feel like the wizarding world's fate is doomed?" Snape's sneering voice commented. Harry frowned, but didn't take the bait.

"Wasn't there supposed to be five of you?" he wondered. Tonks winced, Mad-Eye looked looked like he was about strangle someone and Snape sneered.

"Yes, indeed. Mundungus Fletcher has once again most graciously let us know that he has 'some other stuff to do'. But don't you worry Potter, I'm sure you'll manage with only four members in your Royal Guard," the potions professor looked at him featuring a dry smirk. Harry rolled his eyes. The man didn't look pleased.

"Let's go then. Gringotts first, huh?" Harry raised his eyebrow and looked questioningly at Tonks, who nodded back.

The Diagon Alley was different. The laughing and playful crowd was there no longer and nothing seemed to have any color. Instead a horribly lonely sight was presented before them. The windows were plastered with the ministry's safety directions and a few pictures of the known Deatheaters here and there. The wind blew a few fliers down the almost empty street. Only a few places were open anymore. Harry shivered at the sight. When they reached Gringotts, the sight of it was slightly better, but not by much. The doors were shut and two tough-looking Goblins were standing on either side. When the group passed, they looked at them with contempt.

"Oh, which one one of you has my key, by the way?" Harry asked innocently.

"I do," Tonks said and fetched it out of her pocket. Harry snatched it out of her hand before she could react. Lucky that it wasn't in Moody's hands. Harry could've never gotten it from the man. Even now Mad-Eye was looking at Tonks accusingly.

"Thanks," he smiled at her, "I'll be keeping it from now on, then." Tonks looked shocked.

"Bu-but Dumbledore told to return-"

"It is mine isn't it? My inheritance, my money. Not Dumbledore's," Harry frowned at the woman. Tonks seemed to fumble a bit.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then everything is in order isn't it. Just tell Dumbledore I wanted to have something from my parents okay?" Tonk's face looked still uncertain, but her eyes softened a bit. Harry turned to face the counters and walked to the nearest one.

"Hello, I'm here to get some money from my account."

The goblin didn't even look at him, "Name and key?" it just stated, and continued scribbling and counting coins.

"Harry Potter, and here," Harry placed the key on the high counter. The goblin took and examined it.

"All seems to be in order. Grookcleaver here will take you to your vault," the goblin gestured at a much younger-looking goblin on the side. He was wearing what looked to be a very in-fashion suit, the model of which was popular with the younger wizards nowadays. Grookcleaver bowed.

"This way, please sir," he said with a slightly nervous voice and started walking to the direction of the entrance to the vaults. Harry quickly catched up with him and asked, "Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before." The Goblin grimaced slightly, but not un-pleasantly and fumbled with his cufflinks before opening the cart door.

"Is it that obvious, sir? Yes, it's my first day here. If you'd step in the cart, sir." Harry nodded and did as he was told.

The cart-ride was just as exiting as ever, even if Harry's insides felt a bit iffy afterwards, and he grabbed a few handfuls of large, golden coins. He wondered why wizards didn't use notes. They took a lot less space and were less heavy. 'But I suppose wizards can just use magic to solve that,' he thought.

As he was about to leave and was a few steps away from the vault-door, he felt something hit his head, hard.

"Ouch! What the hell?" he shouted and rubbed at the spot the offending something had hurt. He looked around and saw a glint on the ground beside his left foot. With a slightly stunned expression he bent down to pick the object up. It was a heavy bracelet, a wide, smooth band of some silver-tinted metal with seven jewels featuring a spectrum of colors imbedded into it, one of the stones bigger than the others. It felt cold to the touch, but at the same time somehow oddly inviting. When Harry looked inside the band, he found a small, cursive inscription:

_"One thousand doors _

_and six there are_

_in Tir Na n-Og_

_Old is the Gate_

_but few there are_

_who can tell it isn't tightly locked_

_And where the Tower starts_

_there Balor stands,_

_And where the Tower ends_

_there the Filidh sees_

_And the Light has no place_

_Hail, King that shalt be!"_

Harry stared at the inscription in disbelief.

"This..fell from the roof? What's that about?" He looked up, but there was nothing else to be seen but the dark roof of the vault. Harry looked at the bracelet for a few seconds, but finally placed it inside his pocket. It might not be safe, but it had been in his vault in any case. He should ask the goblins about this.

Crookcleaver stood outside the door and fidgeted slightly. When Harry appeared he straightened his back and asked: "You ready to leave, sir?" Harry nodded, but halted the goblin.

"There is something I needed to ask, though. Is it..normal for things to fall from the roof down to people's heads in their vaults?" Harry winced. It sounded really stupid even to himself. The goblin looked at him in astonishment.

"I…I beg your pardon, sir?"

Harry cleared his throat. "You see, this", he took out the bracelet, "fell from the roof just now and hit me. There wasn't anyone or anything there to make it fall, so I just wondered..how.." During his speech a slight flush had started to color his cheeks and he fumbled for words. Crookcleaver frowned and looked somewhat worried.

"That does not sound like something I have ever heard of, sir. Maybe…I could ask from someone who has more experience with working in the bank, sir?"

Harry sighed, and briefly thought about his guards, waiting for him in the lobby, but knew that his curiosity would win out in the end.

"Yes, that's fine Crookcleaver. Can we do it quick, I have people waiting for me?"

"We can go and talk to my father, who is the director. I'm sure he wouldn't mind it this time."

If Harry didn't know any better he could've sworn that the small goblin blushed at this.

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The doors to Director Ragnok's office were covered with gold. His desk stood at the end of a long corridor with a red carpet and the size of the room was half of the Great Hall. But the goblin himself was tiny, so there really was no reason for Harry to feel at all intimidated. And he wasn't. Not at all. Seriously. Not even when the goblin narrowed his eyes at him menacingly.

"So, what exactly happened?" the director growled. Harry took a shaky breath. Oh, just scratch that about him not being nervous.

"Well, I was just finishing collecting some money and turned to walk out of my vault, when I felt something hit my head. When I looked down I saw a bracelet on the ground. …And, that's it, really. There was no reason for it to just suddenly fall out of nowhere so I though it might be of some significance?" Harry finished his sentence with a nervous question in his tone. The goblin raised his eyebrow and a cruel smile crept to his lips.

"Ah. I believe that this isn't anything to worry about Mr. Potter. Sometimes there are objects in vaults that are supposed to be found at the right times. It sounds to me that this bracelet wanted to be found by you, and was most probably sitting somewhere anyone could see. But when you didn't take any notice of it, it decided to make itself apparent." The goblin folded his hands in a self-satisfied manner and looked amused. Harry blinked bemusedly and frowned.

"Ah…I..see. But why would it want to be found by me?"

The goblin looked at the boy with a more serious air.

"I do not know. Maybe there has been a significant change in your life? Maybe it has some properties that might help you in any way? Who knows. But..to be more certain I could look at it for you? Would that be acceptable?" Harry reached for the bracelet in his pocket and fetched it out.

"I suppose..," he hesitantly placed the bracelet on the desk in front of the goblin. Ragnok's hand lifted and almost came to touch it, but just a few millimeters away from the metal his hand froze and jerked away sharply. Harry flinched and looked at the director in astonishment. The goblins eyes were narrowed, but his pupils had been dilated to the point his eyes looked almost fully black. Ragnok slowly folded his hands.

"You say..it just dropped on you head?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Is something wrong?" Harry said with a worried voice. The goblin sighed deeply.

"…No. But this artifact is somewhat precious. I can't tell you much about it, nor do I really wish to. I suspect there is an inscription there?" the goblin looked at him with his eyebrow raised. Harry nodded and after a prompt, took the bracelet and read the inscription aloud. The goblin stood still, but after a while opened his mouth and spoke absently.

"Tir Na n-Og. That is the mysterious land that has even appeared in the myths of the muggles. The land that knows no pain, no disease. In the early literature of the magical it is referred to as the Dark Lands. The plane in between, the plane of shadows," suddenly the goblin looked at Harry sharply, "I cannot say what the meaning of this poem is, but I can tell you that it speaks of things out of this world. Maybe even dangerous things. This Balor.. In the words of this day, Balor is talked about as the Death. Filidh is the seer whom he held close, nowadays called Lady Faith. This poem is a poem about Gods. And this bracelet was most certainly made by them."

Harry was stunned. He hadn't even known that the wizards had any gods. Except maybe Merlin and Morgana, but they weren't really gods, he didn't think..

"Gods?" Harry asked weakly. Ragnok looked at him with absolute certainty.

"Yes, Gods."

After the Potter boy had been led out of his office, Ragnok brought his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. This was becoming…interesting. Interesting, but just bit on the tedious side. He didn't know if he should feel gleeful at the prospect of Harry Potter being the real owner of Balor's Bracelet or horrified because the boy so obviously was under Dumbledore's wing. There was of course the chance that this was just a coincidence and had nothing to do with the boy.

"Yeah, right. That's just a bit too much to wish. That boy is involved in every Balor damn prophecy there is," Ragnok muttered to himself and cursed under his breath.

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A/N: I was going to continue this chapter a bit after this, but decided to leave the rest to the next chapter. The next one will be called 'Following Fletcher' btw, and even that should tell you something. We might also meet Maddrow again, or at least visit him briefly.

Oh, and that poem in the bracelet was inspired by some lyrics I found somewhere, but I lost the name of the song and the band. If someone recognizes anything, let me know!

And again, PLEASE REVIEW! My poor author-heart jumps everytime I see one! ;u


	3. Chapter 2: Following Fletcher

A/N: I got into a bit of a glitch with this chapter. A friend of mine said: "You wrote yourself into a bag and sewed it closed and the only way to go would be to poke a hole through the bottom". And he was right. So I poked a hole.

And yes, despite the beginning of this chapter the pairing will be Harry/Voldemort(Tom). Although, there will be _very_ slight Harry/Balor (Death) in the beginning(…-ish) of the fic. But all of that will take a lot of time and chapters.

Wingstrike: No, in this story I'm actually using the gods from the Irish Celtic mythologies. And even then highly modified. For example Balor is a god of death, but that's really the only similarity with this fic's Balor.

Madame Penguin: Nice to hear that you like my Gods! :D And I promise you, none of these Gods will have voices like wind chimes. xD Most of them are entirely unpleasant. Ironically Balor (the God of death) is almost the nicest of the bunch..

fayriel: Here you go. :D Thank you for the cheering! :'D

bookworm-chan: Thank you. :) It's nice to hear that.

Risika67: Thanks! That means a lot to my poor brain. ^^'

CHAPTER TWO: FOLLOWING FLETCHER

Balor knows exactly what it means when the familiar, warm feeling of a connection being made invades his dream. It's only a start and not even close to a real bond yet, and for that slim mercy Balor is glad.

The tucking grows steadily in intensity and forces Balor away from his peaceful dream of seagulls and fishes and fresh, salty air blowing through his hair. He follows the feeling and the light grows and then suddenly dims. He lands in a dark place with a mount of gold and silver and copper coins, and stands behind a wild-haired man wearing baggy pants and hideous glasses.

"This..fell from the roof? What's that about?" says the man (with a voice younger than the years in his eyes) in bewilderment and finally Balor sees the bracelet he's been expecting. The bracelet he owned and made and gave to the only woman he ever loved. And later damned for existing. After being cursed by Filidh, that piece of jewelry had only brought him a horrible mess of soul bonds and love and loss, repeated over and over again.

The sick feeling in Balor's stomach was spreading even faster this time and he firmly decided to _obliterate_ the cause for it. Balor would make sure that a bond with this young man would never be formed. Not over his own soul, not over his believer's souls, not over the demolishment of his world, would he be forced to fall in love with yet another ancestor of his first soul mate. Now, to get to know this young man's name, and he might actually have a chance at that.

When Crookcleaver introduces the wizard as 'Harry James Potter, the successor of Houses Potter and Black' to the Director of Gringotts, Balor barely suppresses a whoop of glee, flashes a self-satisfied smirk instead and decides that it's time to wake up and go and have an audience with certain Goddesses of love.

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Harry walked out of Gringotts with his head full of thoughts and the bracelet weighing down in his pocket. Ragnok had assured him that it was in no way dangerous, even if it was presumably 'the property of Gods'. Harry didn't know why the thought felt so preposterous to him; if there was magic, werewolves, unicorns and vampires, why not Gods? And if the bracelet was made by one, then it wasn't that unbelievable that it would have a mind of its own and for some reason decided to want to follow him. ...Maybe it knew that life around him was never dull.

Snape was striding down the road in front of Harry with such a pace that it was hard to keep up with him. It seemed like the man was trying to breeze thorough the day as fast as he could, like it was physically painful for him to be near Harry. Their next stop would be Flourish and Blotts.

Harry stepped inside the musty store. The clerk flinched at the entrance, looking sharply at the door and visibly sagging in relief when seeing the wizarding-world's last hope instead of a white, skull-like mask, black robes and the flash of green light.

Snape was already rifling through the books in the section labeled 'Potions' and mumbling to himself. Moody disappeared somewhere down the lane marked 'Defence' and Tonks was half-heartedly trying to strike up a conversation with the nervous girl at the counter. Harry fetched the list of books needed for next semester out of his pocket when he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. Two people were walking down the Diagon Alley, right past Flourish and Blotts seemingly deep in conversation. Nothing unnatural with that one, but right when Harry noticed that the other person was Mundungus Fletcher who was supposed to be on Harry's guard, it turned weird. The man walking beside Dung looked straight at Harry through the shop-window, their eyes locked and just after Harry noticed the peculiar shade of blue of the man's eyes his sight went entirely black, like someone had thrown a dark curtain over him. Harry panicked and shook his head, rubbing his eyes. In a few seconds his sight cleared, but the man and Fletcher had disappeared, leaving only a sunny Diagon Alley behind. In a split second Harry made a decision. Very quickly he looked around him, trying to locate his guards. Snape was still somewhere behind the Potions-shelf, Tonks had actually managed to break the ice with the girl and Moody was nowhere to be seen. That didn't mean he wasn't actually watching Harry anyways, but Harry decided it was worth the risk. He tip-toed to the door and opened it quietly.

When he got out of the store he looked around just in time to see the back of a wildly gesturing Fletcher disappear around the corner. Harry took a few running steps and hurried after the two. He cursed himself for not bringing any robes with him. The Alley was almost empty, but he could've been at least a bit more anonymous without his ill-fitting muggle clothing. He lifted the hood of his dark jacket to cover his face from sight and peered around the corner. The pair hadn't gone into any shop and just walked along the Alley, past any smaller roads and past the turning point to Knockturn Alley. They were heading for a dead-end. Harry stayed were he was, not wishing to be seen when the wizards would have to turn around. He didn't see any reason for this little walk the men were on, but maybe they were having a business negotiation and just wanted to have some fresh air? That could happen, but it didn't explain the strange blacking of his sight.

Just when Harry thought that the men would have to turn around, they…didn't. The unknown man put his hand inside his pocket and fetched out something small that Harry was too far away to identify, grabbed Fletcher's hand and just walked right through the grey stone wall.

For a few seconds Harry just stood there, gaping at the wall which had seemingly swallowed two people right before his eyes. When he finally managed to shake himself out of his stupor he looked around and hesitantly walked over to the wall. It was just a normal wall. Nothing peculiar about it. Harry was just going to lift his hand to touch it when…

"Well, are ya gonna stand there gawking like a common wizard or are ya gonna come in?" came an annoyed question right above Harry's head, seemingly out of the stone wall. Harry flinched and looked around quickly.

"Wha- Come in where?"

Another, slightly more sophisticated voice suddenly gave an impatient harrumph and answered:

"To the Vertic Alley of course. I take it you haven't used the Diagon entrance before?"

Harry blinked and bit his lip. Well, no, he certainly hadn't.

"Umm, no?"

"It works just the same as the other three entrances. Just grab your stone and walk through. Come on now, we don't have the whole day."

"Yeah we do really," muttered the gruffier voice, and a smack and an "Ouch!" was heard.

"My..my stone? What stone?" Harry furrowed his brow. Did he have to have something to get through to where Dung and his companion had gone? It seemed likely now that he thought about it. But these voices seemed to think he had whatever it was that was needed.

"Are you stupid? The yellow stone of the third section of course!" exclaimed the second voice.

And suddenly Harry remembered the bracelet and the seven stones imbedded. One of them had been yellow, hadn't it not? Harry dug the bracelet out of his pocket and looked at it. There indeed was a yellow jewel, right in between a green and an orange one.

Harry swept his thumb over the stone and gaped when suddenly the gray stone wall in front of him melted away, revealing a two meter wide staircase leading downwards and around a corner with two figures standing in front of it. They both had armory made of leather and were clearly soldiers. 'Maybe guarding the entrance..,' Harry thought. The other one had light blonde hair and a pair of long ears were peeking underneath. He had a graceful beauty to himself, and Harry recognized him from the magical creatures lessons. This was a high elf, who were supposed to be nearly extinct, with only a small colony left somewhere in Thailand. The other one was a creature Harry didn't even recognize. He had hair like a lions mane and a pair of small tusks were peeking out from under his lower lip.

The lion-maned creature looked at him with a weird expression.

"What are ya gapin' at, ya boy! Get on with it!" he grunted and gestured to the stairs leading down. Harry hurriedly closed his mouth and took a hesitant step forwards. He flicked his eyes to the elf quickly before walking past the two and down the stairs.

The stairway was quite dark since it was pushed in-between two high stone-buildings, so when Harry crossed the corner, he was blinded by light and met with the loud and happy chatter of a crowd. When his sight cleared he couldn't help his mouth from falling open. He was standing on the side of a peculiar alley with people bustling all around him. The sight was so different from the empty and depressing view of Diagon Alley, that Harry was momentarily stunned. There were people everywhere, laughing and talking and shopping like Voldemort had never even been born, but that was not the most odd thing about it. The whole alley was in the form of a huge, steep staircase that from where Harry was standing went up to the right and down to the left, with shops astride. When he looked up, he couldn't see the end of it and when he looked down, he was met with a dizzying sight of the staircase going down and down, but without any ground to be seen. If he were afraid of heights he would've been paralyzed. This place wasn't something that was physically possible in any way, yet there it was.

Harry's head cleared from his first surprise just to be quickly met with another. 'Holy mother of Merlin! None of these people are human!' And sure as Voldemort's knickers, he could see a couple more of those supposedly extinct high elves giggling to themselves in a shop selling magical make-up, three vampires wearing sunglasses and high collars were sweeping past him and even a troll was humming to himself just a few feet away from Harry. There was every kind of magical creature here, and Harry didn't think that he was wrong in assuming that he was the only wizard in sight. 'And what did that guard call me? A common wizard?' Harry chuckled to himself. This was beyond outlandish.

Suddenly Harry remembered why he was there in the first place. Mundungus Fletcher. He started scanning the crowd with his eyes, but couldn't see anyone that looked even close to Dung. Not that it was a surprise. Firstly, he was short, and secondly, he had taken so much time getting there that Dung must have been somewhere far already. But he supposed he could just ask the man later on what he had been doing in a place like this. Or maybe not. He would have to tell the man he had followed them. Harry decided to just look around now that he was there.

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The second Maddrow had seen the boy in the shop he had know he would be trouble. He didn't know why, since he had never even seen the kid before, but he had learned to trust his gut instinct and right now it was screaming that he needed to get out of that boys sight and fast or he'd be mixed up in something he definitely didn't want to get mixed up in. So in a quarter of a second decision he flashed out with his shadows and pulled them over the boys eyes. They should hold him for a minute, which would be more than enough for Maddrow and Fletcher to get out of there. The feeling was intensified when Fletcher saw the boy through the shop window and tensed.

"Oh fuck, Potter! Did he see us?" Fletcher groaned. Maddrow lifted his brow.

"Maybe. Yes, I think so. Why?"

"I was ordered to accompany the boy on his shopping trip today, but bailed," the man grimaced. "I think I don't want to spend a perfectly good day with some angsty teenager."

Maddrow hummed. Ordered..? By Dumbledore, that much was clear. The old coot seemed to have quite a lot of power amongst the wizards. But that was not significant, not to him nor to his community.

"That's true. I wouldn't either."

The men walked through the stone wall without noticing the shadow of a young man following behind them.

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A/N: Ugh, this chapter really didn't come easy. Maybe you noticed. It wasn't very good. In next chapter you shall be meeting a few more Gods and Goddesses and seeing young Harry get in trouble.


	4. Chapter 3: The BoyWhoWantedNoOne

A/N: I just realized that I completely disregarded the fact that most of Voldemort's Inner Circle was arrested at the end of Harry's fifth year and they were all supposed to be in Azkaban during the time of my prologue… Oh well. Shit happens. Let's just say that they _weren't_ arrested.

I hope you like my Gods! :D There's a lot of them here...

CHAPTER THREE: THE-BOY-WHO-WANTED-NO-ONE

Balor was standing in front of a picture-perfect, tall and thin english cottage with a rickety fence and small, smoky windows. The grass was green and multiple flowers were blooming in various shades of yellows and oranges all around it, with a few apple trees blooming off the side. It was the kind of an idyllic cottage which you could find in stories, the kind where it was summer and spring and harvest season at the same time, all the time.

But, unfortunately, to Balor this was not a story. He opened the squeaky, wooden gate and crossed the yard, with the multi-colored pebbles crunching under his feet. He stopped in front of the front-door and rapped his knuckles against it's dark wood sharply.

"Come in!" a cheery voice shouted from inside. Balor opened the door and stepped in. The cottage looked just as idyllic from the inside as from the outside.

A brownish-red haired woman in a red dress and a white apron was elbow deep in dough rolling it on the table covered with flour. She looked at Balor over her shoulder and her smile turned immediately sour.

"You again? Has it already been a lifetime?", she sighed with a frown and batted the dough harder, "You really shouldn't hope for anything much. Things like this just can't be changed in a moment's notice."

Balor bared his teeth and grounded out:

"In a moment's notice? It's been hundreds of years, tens of lovers! How is that a moment's notice to you, Branwen?"

The woman harrumphed and looked over her shoulder flippantly.

"It's gonna be another hundred years if you can't ask nicely. Maybe you should just talk to Filidh and see how it goes, huh?" she answered with a malicious smirk, turning the dough in her hands, over and over. Balor took a deep, calming breath.

"You know that's not possible, she hates me. Be _reasonable_ now, Branwen. This whole thing began because of you two Goddesses and your fights. You owe me."

And boy, wasn't that the wrong thing to say. The woman flung her hands in an angry arch and suddenly the lump of dough was traveling towards Balor's head and smacking him in the face, dripping it's sticky sweet essence all over his beard and clothes and the floor.

"HOW DARE YOU COME HERE AND ACCUSE US OF MESSING UP YOUR LOVELIFE! WE OWE YOU NOTHING! NOTHING! IT WAS PURELY YOUR OWN DOING AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN SAY THAT WOULD MAKE IT DIFFERENT! YOU-"

"WHAT IN BLAZING HELL ARE YOU SHOUTING ABOUT YOU CRAZY WOMAN! In the name of Merlin's staff, just _stop_, Branwen!" a stern voice cut her off. Balor wiped the gooey substance off his eyes and looked in the direction of the sound. Another red-dressed woman, almost identical to Branwen in looks was coming down the narrow stairs. She wore a fierce scowl and her black hair up in a neat bun.

"_I'm_ crazy? Looks who's talking," Branwen muttered nastily, "I'm not the one with three people in her head, _Morrigan, the great queen of the mad_!"

Morrigan lifted her eyebrow and flicked her hand dismissively.

"Need I dignify that comment with a response? No? I didn't think so." the Goddess said and finally turned her attention to Balor.

"And who's thi-…" her face fell slack when she watched the God trying to desperately clean his beard from the dough. The corner's of her lips twitched upwards and suddenly she let out a loud laugh.

"Hahahaaaahaha! You should see yourself! The fearsome God of Death covered in batter!" she snickered and laughed merrily (and not without some nastiness) at the other's plight.

Branwen folded her hands and added:

"_Actually_, it's dough, not batter."

Balor growled.

"ENOUGH! I didn't come here to be thrown cake-mix at! I wanted to ask for your help!"

"_Dough_, not cake-mix!" Branwen insisted with a frown and pressed her hands into fists, "How dare you suggest that I use that artificial dragon dung in my handicraft?"

Morrigan sniggered amusedly and cover her lips with her sleeve covered hand. Balor massaged his sugary-goo covered temples in frustration.

"I have _come here_ to talk to you about Harry Potter. He is the next one in line I'm supposedly going to be bonded to," Balor insisted forcibly. Morrigan's snickers quieted to a frown and she waved her hand to pull a thick, old book from thin air.

"Harry Potter? Yes, I believe we have made quite a few people fall in love with that one. Let's see..," she flipped through the pages and stopped slightly off the middle.

"Mmm.. Two motherly loves, multiple obsessive loves, a few adoring loves, couple of angry loves, fifty-seven distant crushes… And all unrequited. That boy just doesn't want _anyone_," Morrigan frowned and shut the book with a slam and a cloud of dust.

"I'm sorry Balor, but there is nothing we can do," the dark Goddess said with an apologizing expression, "As you know, the only way to change your and his fate would be to change the bond's target from you to someone else. And just like I said, the boy does not want anyone. We cannot force love on the humans, we can only make it happen if there is a willingness for it."

"There is no-one for the boy? I find that very hard to believe!" Balor acclaimed in incredulousness. Branwen tapped her cheek in a pondering manner and joined the conversation.

"If my memory serves me correctly there is _one_ person, but the boy and this man already have their fate bound together so strongly that nothing can be done about it. Their destiny is already decided. You are sixteen years late. There's no way," she finished with an air of smug meanness.

Balor's chest ached with the sliver of beginning despair. The air was filled with silence for a few moments.

"..Well, there is _one_ way," Morrigan parted with a smirk. Branwen turned to look at the other woman sharply in accusing shock.

"We agreed that we wouldn't tell him! We agreed!" the Goddess screamed. Morrigan only looked away in disregard.

"Shush. He just looked so pitiable I couldn't resist it. Go away if you don't want a part in this."

Branwen folded her hands in protest and harrumphed but stayed put, frowning at the two angrily.

"What? What must I do?" Balor asked with narrowed eyes. Morrigan spread her hands dramatically and proclaimed:

"You just have to beat Filidh, the Lady Fate, at her own game."

Balor shuddered. He had once already met with his ex-lover in battle and he had hoped that that would've been the last and only time.

"You're joking," he deadpanned.

Morrigan smiled at the God smugly and twisted a lock of her hair slowly around her fingers.

"There was this prophecy. Maybe you could change it?" she suggested almost offhandedly.

Balor frowned and spoke in a frustrated manner:

"How can you change spoken word? It's not possible if the knowledge of it is already in a human's mind. Not possible."

Morrigan's eyes lit up and her smile widened.

"Ah, but this prophecy was not heard. It was written. Or more specifically carved on the side of a rock, using a very particular magickal alphabet," the Goddess looked at Balor under her brow and smiled wickedly, "Do you understand what I'm suggesting?"

After a moment's hesitation Balor's lips twisted into a calculating grin. Oh Merlin's balls, he'd like to see the face of that bitch when she got to know of this! He turned to Branwen.

"Brannie, you wouldn't mind sending a message to Aife that I'm coming to see her, now would you? I can never find her in that tree when I need to and I know you have that handy bird here somewhere."

Branwen pursed her lips.

"That 'handy bird' happens to be my son!"

"Yes, yes, whatever you say. Please?"

The Goddess folded her hands and tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Hmph. Well, only because you're begging," she finished, turned around with a flourish, went to the slightly open kitchen-window and pushed it open.

"Gwern! Darling, I have a job for you!" she twittered out of the window and waited until a bright colored starling landed on the windowpane.

Balor turned back to Morgana and crossed his arms.

"Now, tell me, what exactly does this prophecy entail?"

Morgana smiled at him, took his arm and led him to the table. She sat down and motioned for the other chair.

"Actually, there are two. But you really needn't worry about the most recent one, just focus on the first. That other one speaks of all this 'living' and 'surviving' dragon-dung that could be taken in soooo many ways if you had the imagination."

Balor grunted impatiently and Morgana hurried on:

"Aaanyways, love, here's the deal: You change the meaning of half a sentence, and that Potter boy is all yours," she shrugged, "Or reverse-all-yours. You know what I mean. It's only a small tweak, really."

"I can't believe that it would be that easy," the God said suspiciously. Morgana smiled at him and looked at her nails.

"There's one problem."

Balor groaned.

"The prophecy has already been translated. So, there are quite a few people who know what it says. If you go and change the meaning of those words, all those people will carry on thinking they know it, even if what they thought they knew would be technically wrong. So, what you need to do is make someone believe they got it wrong, re-translate it and, this is important, tell everyone about it. And of course there would need to be proof that would overrule all the other scripts that have these specific words in them, because we can't go and change anything physical. Just the meaning. Which would, of course, then be mumbo-jumbo. And remembering time-travel-rule number one: 'If you do the travel, you gotta do it without splitting the Universe in half', we shall keep in mind that none of this can happen before the time of right now. …Might be tough, I know. Oh, and you have..about three months before the bond with the kid becomes solid, I'd guess," she ended with a smirk.

Balor's head hit the table in despair. He swiped some dried dough off of his cheek. It fell down in flakes.

Before any of this he needed a shower. A long one.

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A/N: I decided to cut it off here, since that part got longer than I thought and I got a bit of a block about the Harry-part.. But rest assured, the next chapter is only gonna be about Harry, Mundungus and Maddrow and no Gods, if you're already getting bored of my OC's. :D

If you wanna know more about the Gods and Goddesses I have incorporated into this story, here goes:

They are all people described in the Mabinogion, the Welsh epic. They have their own stories and families and battles, which are almost totally different than they are in this fic, but all of the Gods have some common ground with their exemplars. (For example Branwen (her name meaning White Crow) is a woman who tamed a starling to send a message to his brother across the Irish sea about her abusing husband. Her illegitimate child's name was Gwern (who was drowned by his uncle Efnysien), and in this story, Gwern shall be the starling. Balor was associated with death and everyone knows about Morrigan, the Goddess of war and love, and her three other facets: Badb, Macha and Nemain/Anu).

Filidh (Fate) is the only one of my God(esse)s that does not have an actual singular role-model in the Mabinogion. The filidh were actually poets and seers.

Also, my Gods have all one specific purpose that they serve; they are not all-powerful Gods who can do whatever they please. They have rules and skills. Balor collects the souls of the dead and brings them to the Underworld's first layer, the Afterlife. Branwen and Morrigan give people the capability of loving and are somewhat experts in bonds. Aife holds the keys to the one magical language that she stole. Brighde and Cailleagh make the seasons go forward and can twist time. Filidh makes prophesies and speaks through seers, and so affects how the world goes. She cannot affect human decisions, but she can do whatever in her power to make people do what she wants. She is a sorceress, and as such can affect nature. She also holds some power over beings that are very susceptible to nature. Almost anything you can think of has a God/ess in the world of this fic, but I'll be introducing only a handful.

And finally, **please review**! QAQ;; Push that gleaming button! You know you want to!


	5. Chapter 4: Giving and Getting

CHAPTER FOUR: GIVING AND GETTING

Harry was sitting in a small, quiet cafe that was decorated in calming hues of dark blue and brown. He took a sip of his normal-sized coffee with two cubes of sugar and leaned back to admire the downwards-view of Vertic Alley.

At first he had been very disoriented. He had just walked up the stairs and gaped, sometimes at the shops and whatever they were selling (be it something like prosthesis-horns for handicapped unicorns and horsemen who wanted to be unicornmen or metallic 'Get your own sweet scales in a sweep!' -body-paint or potion to air-condition your hot fur), and sometimes at the customers, who…were not exactly the walk-by-you-everyday kind of people (Some weren't even walking, but instead levitating, gliding, sweeping, slithering or trotting. And some didn't even seem to be people).

Harry stood up and took a hold of his coffee-cup. He had been promised a refill for the same price and he was going to get it. He walked to the counter, poured himself another cup, and turning around promptly walked into someone, spilling all of his scalding hot coffee all-over them.

"AAAAAUUURGGHHH-!" the person roared.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry, I-" Harry stopped still with his mouth slack open when he finally saw the pers-…_thing_ he had dumped all his coffee on, and promptly all blood froze in his veins. Grey all over, and with a massive frame, just enough clothing to hide anything inappropriate, sharp, mean-looking teeth and black and white body-paint on his face in streaks. This was an orc. Known to be practically immune to wizarding magic, vicious when angered and having a taste for human flesh. Another species that was supposed to have been hunted to extinction. And Harry had just angered one. 'Great,' he thought, 'Just another thing to add to my list of "Improbable things I have done". …I think I should run instead of lamenting on this.'

Harry ducked under the flailing arms of the huge, grey rock-thing, jumped over a couch and ran out the door. He felt a bit sorry for the damage the orc would most probably cause to the shop. But then again, anything was better than _him_ receiving the damage.

Unfortunately, it seemed the orc had a pretty thick skin and was fast as well as furious as before getting even a meter away from the coffee shop Harry felt himself being grabbed from behind and lifted up.

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Mundungus and Maddrow had been walking down the stairs of Vertic Alley having just finished their business, Dung blabbering on and on about his next great dealing all the while boring Maddrow to death, when they heard a crash and a rain of broken glass shards hitting ground. Maddrow's eyes narrowed. It seemed a fight was going on a bit further down the staircase. They should get away. He looked sharply at the other man and grabbed his arm.

"Fletcher, I'll shadowglide us-"

"It's Harry Potter!" shouted a stunned sounding woman down ahead, "What's _he_ doing here?"

Mundungus' eyes widened, fright entered his eyes and his jaw slacked. He started pushing people out of the way and trying to get to the site of the fight as fast as he could, all the while muttering in panic. Maddrow cursed mentally and followed the dealer. 'I knew that boy was trouble! _How_ did he get in here?!'

Mundungus had stopped at the edge of the circle of people and was peeking around the back of a worried looking fae. The second Dung realized what was happening he quickly turned to Maddrow with pleading eyes.

"Maddrow! Save that bloody boy and I'll give you a ten percent discount!"

The shadow mage looked over the situation with considering eyes. The boy was laying unconscious in a pile of glass shards and didn't seem to be fairing well. His head was bleeding and his right arm seemed to have a strange looking bend. The boy's adversary ('An _orc?_ How idiotic is this boy to anger one of them?!') was sitting a bit further away, apparently eating the flesh of some innocent, unlucky person. Maddrow shivered. Why did the Alliance let these things roam the Alleys freely was a mystery. Maddrow could save the boy using the shadows with small risk to himself if he was fast enough. But was it worth it?

"..Twenty percent."

Mundungus tore at the very little hair he had and moaned in frustration.

"Aaarmrupfh that _little_- FINE! Twenty percent! _Just do something!_"

"Hmm. Go back to the headquarters and wait for me. …Although I'll most probably be there before you."

Without waiting for an answer Maddrow moved further back to the crowd and got closer to the wall and simultaneously the larger shadows. He leaned on the shady wall and casually fell through to the land of Tir Nan Oge.

Maddrow grabbed the gate he came through and pulled. A black string came loose, and when pulled at harder, it revealed a knot with a whole lot of new strings leading to other gates. The man carefully examined them, picked one and threw the others away. Now concentrating on this string, he followed it to a gate. 'Okay, let's hope the boy hasn't moved,' the mage thought. Maddrow took a deep breath and stuck his head out.

The mage appeared in a shadow a meter away from the boy. Fortunately (or not, depending which way you looked at it) it seemed the boy was still very much unconscious and the orc wasn't yet looking for dessert in the form of a wizard. Maddrow grabbed Potter's arm and hauled him inside the shadow and through the gate, unnoticed.

When safely inside the Dark Lands he lay the boy down on the path and examined his injuries. Harry had a broken arm and a rib, a small but deep wound in the back of his head and most probably a concussion. The wound was bleeding rapidly. Maddrow took a hold of the hem of his shirt with his teeth, ripped a streak of cloth off and tied it around the boy's head on the wound. 'That will have to do for now,' he thought and lifted the wizarding world's savior carefully up, 'Time to go home.' He walked a short while to a gate that was glowing a faint blue, and stepped inside.

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Mundungus was walking fast back to the direction he came from. Maddrow would be just fine, he was a shadowmage after all. And hopefully Potter would be fine too. Dung didn't know what Dumbledore would do to him if he let the boy get killed on his watch! Even if he didn't tell anyone, he would still be blamed because he bailed from the watch-squad. 'Oh maaan… The kid must be fine!' Mundungus thought frantically while biting his fingernails.

He turned the last corner and reached the facade of a large, imposing stone building with a golden sign that read: "The Alliance Of The Seven Alleways," with a straight, no-nonsense script. Mundungus went to the door and knocked. After a second a plate on the door opened and two eyes peaked through.

"Oh, it'sss you. If the God'sss live on the plane for sleep, what do they dream of?"

Mundungus gritted his teeth and answered:

"_Us._ Now let me through!"

As usual, the door was opened by Loik, a pouting, red-haired lizard-man.

"No need to get ssso grumpy about it.."

Mundungus brushed the young man off.

"Is Maddrow here yet?" he asked in a hurried voice. Loik lifted a brow and flashed his thin, slit tongue.

"Well, he hasssn't come through the door, but if he'sss alone, he never usesss the door. Ssso I haven't the-"

Mundungus quickly went past the man and down the hall. Maddrow'd be in the infirmary, if he was here yet.

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Harry was standing in an ethereal field. The grass was silvery and the leaves were a light shade of pink. A light mist was in the air and water-drops had formed on every surface, making the whole world glow. A unicorn was standing not so far from him. It was looking at him with clear eyes, assessing. Harry stood as still as he could. And suddenly, the unicorn bend it's neck gracefully, like it was bowing to him. Like in a state of dreaming, Harry bowed back.

A hammering noise permeated his world. It started as an echo, but grew steadily, until the ground was shaking by the force of it. The unicorn didn't seem to notice, but Harry's head was about to explode. He shut his eyes tightly and covered his ears.

When Harry opened them, the field was gone, and he was sitting in a bed, with a pounding headache and a sharp pain in his right arm and chest. For a second he felt disoriented. He was in a unfamiliar place. The bed seemed to be an infirmary bed, since it had white sheets and a white curtain around it. Over him was a white, high ceiling. From the other side of the curtain he could hear two voices conversing, the other one being Mundungus Fletcher.

"How did he get in here? Did he follow us? The nosy brat."

Another, unknown, voice answered:

"The following part is not what concerns me. The part of getting inside the Alley does, though. He can't have had a stone. They are only given to creatures, and charmed so no one can ever speak of it or it be given to someone else or even lost. So how did he get in? Did he ask someone to give him a ride?"

"That must be it. He always pokes his nose into other people's business," Mundungus said grumpily.

Harry furrowed his brow. Well, maybe he did, but because of that he had thwarted Voldemort multiple times and prevented catastrophes! …This time he had pretty much caused one though. He thought about listening in a bit longer, but Harry wanted some answers, and truthfully, his conscience wouldn't allow him to. He pulled open the curtain and faced the surprised faces of the two men. The unknown voice had belonged to the other person walking with Mundungus, the person who had blinded him for a second or two. He had short, dirty brown hair, and the bluest eyes Harry had ever seen. A distinct scar was crossing his face from the corner of his right eye and diagonally across the nose.

"Actually, if you're talking about that "yellow stone of the third section", I do have one. And a few others."

The unknown man blinked in surprise and gritted his teeth.

"What? How..How do you know about them?!" Mundungus shouted and twisted his hands looking uncomfortable.

Harry smirked, despite his headache, "Why don't you tell me what you know about this place and I'll tell you how I got here, okay?"

"Nosy brat.." Mundungus grumbled and wiped his sweaty hands on his rust-colored vest.

"Yes, I heard that the first time, thank you," Harry grinned and looked at the second man questioningly, "Well?"

Maddrow didn't know what to think. 'This kid has a stone? And other stones? And _knows_ about them?' He sighed. It didn't seem like he had much of a choice.

"Fine. I'll tell you, and then you tell me. This," Maddrow gestured around, "is the headquarters for The Alliance of the Seven Alleyways. The Alleyways obviously consist of the seven Alleys, three of which are populated by wizards and witches, and four of which your people don't have the slightest of an idea about. The four are like safe-places for what you call the magical beings. For ourselves the old word 'daemons' has stuck. The Alliance is kind of the governing force, and a long time ago all of the seven of the Alleys were beneath it's rule. It was kind of like a commercial treaty, that also kept peace. But then, many hundred years ago, came the witch Gorgala who started hunting the daemons, mages and necromancers. A prophecy was made which said that if the daemons didn't separate themselves from the wizarding world, they would perish. The Alliance decided to detach themselves from the wizards and created barriers to hide themselves. So four of the Alleyways and the daemons within were completely sealed, and in time, forgotten by the witches and wizards completely. The gates were just opened for movement again a hundred years ago or so, and we still have no plans of revealing our existence to the wizards. So, how did you get here?"

Harry opened his mouth…and closed it. And then opened it again.

"Wow. I..imagined something like that, but for no one to know about you… That's a bit…bewildering."

Maddrow growled impatiently, "Yes, yes. _How_ did you get here?"

After a minute-full of thoughtful silence, (in which Harry pondered on how much to reveal) Harry finally fished the bracelet out of his pocket with his healthy hand. He turned it around, displaying the stones imbedded.

"This fell on my head in my vault earlier. I suppose, since there are seven stones, it has all that you need to get into the Alleys. I just..followed you, and then by the wall you went through I heard this voice that told me to touch my stone already and stop gawking like a common wizard," Harry ended with an amused grin.

Maddrow's eyes widened. 'A bracelet with _seven _of the stones? That's…Balor's Bracelet!' He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, 'Trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble.' A few seconds passed, with Harry fingering the glowing jewels on the bracelet and Maddrow trying to compose himself.

"That's not quite right," he eventually corrected weakly," You see, only four of those lead to the Alleys. The other three..they go somewhere else."

Harry looked up at him in bemusement.

"Really? How do you know? Where do they lead to?"

"We have many legends about that bracelet, and the owner of it. The black one…That goes to the Dark Lands; to Tir Nan Og", Maddrow said with a sigh. Harry's eyes widened. 'Tir Nan Og? That's written in the inscription, the place with thousand and six doors.. And by Ragnok, the land with no pain or disease!' he thought in surprise. Maddrow continued:

"Then, the dark violet one, that leads to the Underworld's first layer, to the Afterlife. Then, the blue, green, yellow and orange ones lead to the Alleys, and, as this is Balor's Bracelet, also to 'the plane for sleep'; the four layers of the Underworld where we mages and daemons go when we sleep. And the red one…By the legends that one let's you visit the sixth layer. The layer of the Gods," Maddrow paused for a moment, but suddenly assumed a warning expression, "I wouldn't suggest you use any of these, though. You wouldn't fair well in the Afterlife or the Dark Lands, not to mention the sixth layer. And not even with that bracelet can you actually get into the plane for sleep. You either always know how to get there or never do."

By the end of the speech Harry's eyes were wide like saucers and his jaw was hanging open. Had he been carrying the key to the home of the God's in his pocket the whole day? And to the Afterlife? Harry felt quite overwhelmed. After a while he looked at the bracelet and narrowed his eyes.

"…Then why did it want to be found by me?" he quietly pondered aloud. Maddrow furrowed his brow.

"What did you say? Want to be found by you?"

"Yeah, the Director of Gringotts told me that the bracelet hit me in the head because it wanted to get my attention," Harry answered absent-mindedly, not registering the reaction his words caused in Maddrow. Suddenly Harry's eyes widened.

"My guards! They must be looking for me! …If they haven't alerted the whole Order already!"

With his good arm he swung back the blanket, with the mind of getting up, but as soon as he had his feet on the ground and was attempting to stand up, the pain in his chest flared. Harry grimaced and leaned back down.

"Get back in the bed you crazy boy! You have two broken ribs! You're in no condition to get up!" Mundungus shouted in panic and hurried to Harry's bedside to push him back on the sheets. This boy was the Wizarding world's only hope, and there could be lasting damage if the boy didn't stay still! Harry struggled slightly, but knew the man was right.

"But I need to let the Order know I'm fine, or there'll be hell to pay!" he still protested.

"I don't give a Hippogriff's shit! Now lay back down you impudent little _twink_!" Mundungus spit at him.

Harry was about to continue shouting at the man, until his word's registered. He gaped at mundungus.

"Wha-What did you just call me?" he asked uncertainly.

Mundungus' mouth twitch in sudden nervousness, "Umm, don't you worry about that," he said rapidly, "Just forget it and lay down." Harry narrowed his eyes skeptically and was about to open his mouth, but suddenly Maddrow interrupted them, sounding incredulous:

"The _Director of Gringotts_ told you this bracelet wanted to be found by _you_?"

Harry looked at the man and blinked.

"Yes. He did."

For a few seconds Maddrow sat very still, but then he got up from his chair and said:

"I have something to do. Wait for me. Mundungus, you too," and before either one could react, Maddrow had vanished, leaving only shadows behind.

Harry's mouth opened in a gasp. 'This man uses the same shadow-technique than the one who escaped with that tortured prisoner of Voldemort's last night!'

Suddenly Harry heard a cough from the other side of the bed. The side which was still covered from view by the white curtain. Just maybe, mayde it could be… Feeling unexplainably nervous Harry reached out his hand and pulled the curtain aside.

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A/N: Sorry this took me so long! I'm not very pleased with this chapter, or how I described Harry so please tell me what you thought of that/him. ;n;

Chapter Five: Giwing away and not getting; Where Maddrow will give away half of what he got before, and where Harry will not get what he wanted.

**REPLIES TO REVIEWS:**

TheNotedMusician: Thank you! 3 I'm happy you think the prophecy is interesting. Hopefully you liked this chapter too. :)

Seinän takana asuva mölli (xD):

Kiits kun kävit kommentoimassa! Joo, Harry on ehkä hiukan enemmän rebel kuin oikeasti. :'D Koko juoni on kyllä suunniteltu, mutta mun vahvuuksiani ei ehkä ole pitkät tarinat, joten saa nähdä mitä tästä tulee…

Meany: Thank you! ..And I hope this wasn't too late. Dx

spoonring: Good to hear! Hopefully you'll stay curious. :)

Melikalilly: Thanks!

Fireotaku18: I tried to finish this sooner but I was a bit stuck.. -n-' That's good, I can't wait to get to good parts! xD

Madame Penguin: Yeah, there'll be more Harry in the future. Hopefully there was enough of Harry this time? And don't worry, I'm not giving away all the explanations yet, even if it might seem so. Thank you for the comment, it actually made me think on how to make this fic better! :D

oo: Trying, but it won't be smooth going! :) Thank you!

GaleNapier: Hah, there won't be much of actually incorporating Mabinogion in this, but rather just borrowing some of the characters (in my own way). But thank you


	6. Chapter 5: Giving Away and Not Getting

A/N: Wait, what's this? A new chapter? Merlin's balls!

I wasn't really happy with this one and in the end I decided to write half of it all over again and that's why it took me a lot longer than it should have (and of course university started. It's my BA-research year, so it's been pretty stressful). I apologize. However long it takes me I intend to finish, so don't worry (if you actually care).

While writing this chapter I realized that all of this has actually happened in the span of one day and a night! And there's more to come before everyone can get their sleep… Except Harry. He slept just fine. And had a weird dream. …Which WAS significant by the way. Just thought to mention.

Thanks to everyone who's faved, followed and especially to those that reviewed the story thus far! You make my days. :)

CHAPTER FIVE: GIVING AWAY AND NOT GETTING

In the Headquarters of the Alliance, a lone, magnificent door stood in a brightly lit corridor. Behind that door a meeting was taking place. It was a very unusual meeting, since it was called in haste the very same day by one of the members of the high council. Such a meeting had not been held in fifty-seven years, the last time being when a small incident concerning the key of the treasury being lost (and subsequently found from a troll's stomach) occurred.

This time, though, the matter was not so small and a lot louder and when standing just outside the door, your ear pressed to the wood, you could nearly perfectly hear what the talk was about. Conveniently this was just what Madbran was doing.

Inside, a dazzlingly beautiful woman straightened her spine and stood up regally.

"Director Ragnok, I do not doubt your proficiency in the matters of money, but this..How can you be so sure? The prophecy of our ancestors states that there shall be only six after Gorgala's rise that carry the mark of Death before the Seventh. Those six have already been. You do understand the consequences if you are mistaken?"

The woman flicked her blond hair behind her shoulder and sneered at Ragnok in a condescending manner. The goblin bared his teeth at her.

"Do not underestimate me Belinda. I did not come to be the Director of Gringotts only for my 'proficiency in the matters of money'! I am sure. This is the Seventh. The childe marked by Death."

The spokesman of the werewolves rose to take his turn.

"And can you tell us in what way the childe was marked by death, besides the bracelet of course?"

"I apologize, but that would compromise the identity of my customer, and as such I cannot answer this question."

At this the veela slammed her hands on her desk angrily and shouted:

"To Hell with that! If you will not tell us, all of _us_ will be compromised! Who knows what that child is doing with the Bracelet! Or already has! They might be leading a troop of wizards right into the alleys already at this moment!"

At this the crowd flared up, and a panicked whispering was heard. Ragnok, the Director of Gringotts bank and the one that had called the meeting looked amused.

"I can assure you that that will not happen. Firstly, the childe does not even know of the existence of the Four Alleys, and secondly, even if they did, they would not wish us any harm I'm sure. This childe is-"

Suddenly a soldier of the incubus sort opened the door to the servants' entrance with a loud creak and stood at attention. The room silenced.

"Sirs and madams, I am sorry to disturb you, but we have a problem at the Diagon entrance to the Vertic Alley. The entrance seems to be locked. No one can get out or in."

"What?! But that is impossible!" shouted Gimweld, the resident high warder of the Alliance, "The entrance can only be locked by the senior warders, and we're all here!"

"And none of us has surely done anything to the entrance!" another warder added. A murmur of agreeing voices floated through the air.

"But so it seems. A crowd has already formed to the entrance trying to get in or out. At this rate, the entrance might get compromised." The whole hall froze for a second until breaking into frenzied whispers. Chairman Cicerro rose from his seat, the unforgiving eyes of the dark elf scanning the attendees and spoke:

"Warders, I believe this to be a matter of greater haste than the one we have been discussing, if not of greater importance. Please do go immediately to the site and find out what has happened."

A few grumbles was heard, but none too loud. The warders (a peculiar mix of daemons all exhibiting the blue sash of the warder's guild) stood up and some collected the instruments they had been playing with before the events had stolen their attention, and filed out of the room. The door closed.

On the other side a man stumbled out of the way of the opening door and promptly tripped over someone's robes, in the process crashing the whole line of warders to the ground with numerous books, staffs and pieces of chalk.

The man who brought to pass this chain-reaction was of course named Maddrow, and at the first, angry syllable of his name out of warder Gimweld's mouth he fled. Straight inside the room still holding the on-going council meeting, standing awkwardly in the middle of a mix of gazes; perplexed, angry, disapproving.

For a second the chairman's brow shot to skies. Then he frowned.

"Maddrow. I don't believe you are a part of the council."

The scarred man rubbed the back of his neck, "No, umm, yes, I mean I've got something to tell you," he chuckled nervously.

"Then please do so promptly. And Filidh help you if this is something ignorant," the chairman growled.

Maddrow rubbed his hands together nervously and clapped them decisively.

"Ah, you see, I don't know if Director Ragnok has already told you" -at this point the whole audience stood at attention- "but there seems to be this kid who _might_ maybe have gotten his hands on Balor's Bracelet and gotten himself something like…_chosen_?" he ended carefully. The room exploded with noise. The chairman took it to be in his best interest to do what he pleased and silenced the room down to the last counsellor, no questions asked. He regarded Maddrow's sweating form calculatingly.

"Where have you come across this information exactly? And what of it?"

Maddrow swallowed in apprehension._ 'Shite. It's true. It's true. Shite.'_ He bit his lip and continued slowly: "Well, then you might want to visit the infirmary."

The chairman tsked impatiently and drummed his fingers against the dark stand.

"Why on Earth might we want to do that?"

If the elf had known Maddrow's answer beforehand he would have strengthened the hold he had on his composure. But as he did not, it was not so much of a stretch to believe that his jaw slacked.

"The kid's there. He fought an orc."

Someone dropped a quill. The resounding echo reached all ears.

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At first Harry was annoyed. He couldn't see a thing! Of course he should've thought about it. His bed held a white curtain around it, so logically all the other bed's did too. Next, he thought, _'if I could pull back mine, then I can pull that one back too'_, and felt victorious. And third, he felt annoyed again, since when he tried to get out of the bed Mundungus flipped (_"You crazy boy you are injured get down now not on my watch they'll kill me already-!"_). And when he had asked Dung about the person in the other bed he said that he didn't know and didn't give Merlin's flying balls and certainly wouldn't find out for Harry. And for good measure dragged his chair in between the two beds. _'Great. Just great.' _The young wizard gritted his teeth. _'I'm on the verge of finding out how this man escaped from Voldemort and now I can't because that wretched idiot won't co-operate!' _Harry had never really hated Fletcher but this, he thought, really gave him reason to.

And what in the name of Merlin was happening here anyways? He had found a bracelet which led him to a hidden enclave for magical creatures! Harry furrowed his brow when he was hit with a sudden sense of déjà vu. _'…Sounds familiar. To think about it, it might not be such an odd thing to find a hidden enclave inside another hidden enclave.' _He rubbed his eyes and sighed. It was just his luck to find it, though, and be mauled by a man-eating monster the first hour of his first visit. He didn't think he liked this place much. Harry's brain was running sluggishly and he leaned down on the soft pillow. A feather tickled his nose._ 'A down pillow, huh…That's nice..' _His eyelids felt heavy and the boy closed them for a while.

Sunlight was blazing down on him and a salty wind blew his hair into a mess. This was a place where summer was, not only now, not only next month -if such a crude count of life even existed here- but always. How Harry knew that, he wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. The wind carried sounds of laughter and waves from the other side of the small grassy hill Harry was standing at the feet of. Suddenly a longing to be there with the voices took over his mind and he started running, up the hill and over it, until he saw the wide ocean -which he knew would be there- and the sirens playing in the water -whom he knew he would find there-, splashing each other with their tails, screeching gleefully in mermish like little children. Harry smiled. And suddenly halted his step and his smile. What was going on? Where was he? How did he get here? Was this even real? _'…This _is_ real,' _Harry thought, and gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, since he _didn't know_ how he without a doubt, without fail, unhesitatingly _knew_ that.

Without warning a bright light blinded him and Harry opened his eyes. Or the other one at least; someone was holding his right eyelid open and pointing magical light right into his pupil. He wrenched himself free and shouted an unvoluntary four-letter word. The person took a few steps backwards and apologized.

"Ah, I'm sorry. You were conscious then, I started to wonder. Well, welcome back Mr. Potter," the man smiled with good humor (and very pointed teeth, Harry noticed), "I believe there are quite a few messieurs who have been awaiting you." And true, when Harry cleared the bright spots in his vision and looked around, he noticed a gathering of about twenty creatures of all sorts around his bed. Harry's hand gripped the bedcovers tensely, his eyes wide and even the last shreds of thought about the weird reality-dream were banished from his mind.

The tall man -or elf, from the looks of his ears- closest to the bed cleared his throat and nodded his head in greeting.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter, to our home. I am Cicerro, the Chairman of the Alliance of the Seven Alleyways, and am sorry that you have already met with the crude side of our domain. You can rest assured that encounters such as yours today with our daemons are exceedingly atypical."

Harry felt slightly stupefied. What was going on in here? This elf, obviously holding a very high position in this government was talking to him like his opinion of anything mattered! This could of course be a boy-who-lived -thing, but Harry doubted the Alliance really cared much about Voldemort either way.

"Ah.. Really? That's..nice to hear, I suppose," he answered carefully, when it became obvious by the stretching silence that an answer was expected of him. The chairman looked at him in silence for a few seconds assentingly and Harry felt increasingly confused and embarrassed. What were they expecting of him? The chairman continued:

"Gathered here at your..krhm, bedside are the representatives of the vampires, were-species, dwarves, incubi, dark elves, light elves, high elves, goblins, mermen, phoenixes, satyrs, centaurs, hags and chimaeras. The representatives of dementors, sphinxes, unicorns and winged horses could not be allowed to enter I'm afraid."

"A-alright," Harry's eye's bugged out. '_This is getting dangerous,' _he thought slightly hysterically and continued:

"Umm. What exactly is this? What do you want of me?"

A slow smile spread over the chairman's lips and Harry leaned away warily.

"Not much. Yet. Right at this time we only wished to confirm that you are indeed well and to offer our apologies. Also, we wished to make sure that you kept your mouth shut. About everything you've seen here thus far and everything you will see here from this point onwards," the smile wavered not once.

Harry narrowed his eyes and straightened his back. '_So, they are here to threaten me into silence. Of course.'_

"I'm not one to give away other's secrets. But just out of curiosity, how were you going to make sure of that?" Harry said flippantly and cursed his Gryffindorish recklessness the second the words slipped out. An expression of surprise flashed across the chairman's face.

"Hmm. I might have thought that the threat imminent in my words was enough. But maybe I assessed you wrongly?"

Harry might have taken those words as yet another threat, but the obvious curiosity behind them was real and the words held no malice. Harry furrowed his brow in perplexion.

"…As I said, I'm not one to give away other's secrets so whether you did or not is irrelevant."

The chairman let out a loud, amused laugh at this, startling Harry and making him jump. The sound quieted into a sly smile on the elf's face.

"Yes, yes… I believe you will do. With a bit of training."

Harry bit his lip and looked at the other with mistrust. This elf seemed a bit too much like Dumbledore for his liking. He almost thought he shouldn't ask, but…

"I will do for what?"

The elf just smiled at the boy knowingly. His eyes flicked to the bracelet for a few seconds and suddenly an expression of epiphany crossed his face.

"Oh! You came here from the Diagon Entrance didn't you?"

"Yes. But what will I do for?" Harry enquired stubbornly. Cicerro smiled.

"Let's make a deal shall we? You will help us with a small problem we have and I will tell you what you will do for. And maybe even some more. How does that sound to you?"

_'Not good,'_ thought Harry.

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A few hours later Maddrow was walking down the stairs of Vertic Alley alongside Mundungus and the boy, following chairman Cicerro. Dung was grinning, looking very pleased with himself. _'He should be! That rat!', _thought Maddrow. He had been forced to give back all the discount he had gotten and _more_ when rescuing the Potter boy. The chairman had told him to make that pile of Dung a friend by using any means necessary. He had had to buy the man in the end, but the thief had finally agreed to support and protect the boy holding the Bracelet while in the wizarding world. But Maddrow knew well that a coward's word was good only so far. He looked down in shame, thoughts upon the happiness that once had been.

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The number twelve Grimmauld place was in chaos. Almost seven hours earlier Harry Potter had vanished from Diagon Alley like into thin air. Six hours and 47 minutes ago Mad Eye had noticed the boy missing and in 15 minutes the whole of Diagon Alley had been searched. And now Albus Dumbledore was desperate.

The headmaster was sitting in front of his desk, staring at a softly glowing crystal ball, which was enchanted to tell you of Harry's condition. A while ago it had glowed red. Now it was a light yellow. A knock was heard from the door.

"Enter."

The door's hinge's creaked, and the dark being of the school's resident potions master appeared in the opening. The headmaster lifted his gaze, the usual twinkle missing from his eyes.

"I would ask you to sit, my boy, but I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to leave immediately."

"I have to wonder why you would call me if you now wish me to leave? Have you finally gone senile?" Snape sneered dryly. The headmaster's lip curved in a humorless smile.

"Oh I wish, my boy, but alas my wits have not yet stranded me. I mean that I have a mission for you. Go to Voldemort's headquarters and see if Harry is there, or if anyone has any knowledge of where he might be. But please do be careful with the information of the boy's status as missing. I would rather have Voldemort not know of this if he doesn't already before we can safely retrieve the child."

Severus grimaced inwardly, '_That blasted boy will be the death of me,'_ and promptly turned on his heels, to march into the lair of the most dangerous wizard in Britain and yet again spy on his secrets.

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A/N: So, R&R? Personally I think this chap was boring as hell. Next time I'm hoping for something more interesting.


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